


Favorite Son

by idrilsdarkwritings (idrilhadhafang)



Series: Trias Palpatine Backstory [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Backstory, Brothers, Dark, Father-Son Relationship, Fridge Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury Recovery, Jerkass Woobie Snoke, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Other, Palpatine Wasn’t A Good Dad, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Rey’s Father Backstory, Sith Code, Sith Training, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, The Dark Side of the Force, Twisted brotherly love, freudian excuse, in a sick way, in a way considering Snoke’s origins, snoke backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilsdarkwritings
Summary: Even Palpatine’s “favorites” are far from treated kindly.
Relationships: Rey’s Father & Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Rey’s Father & Snoke (Star Wars), Sheev Palpatine & Snoke
Series: Trias Palpatine Backstory [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603474
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Allbingo





	Favorite Son

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Scars
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: Call this a missing scene for my backstory about Rey’s parents, a.k.a. Trias and Nerys. Shit’s gonna get dark from here. 
> 
> Warning for discussion of child abuse, graphic depiction of injury, and...probably more.

It was after he had healed fully (Force Lightning, Trias already knew — at the tender age of thirteen to boot — was nothing to be trifled with) and Snoke had also healed (mostly) that Trias spoke with Snoke. The Milaran clone had been patched up (technology and Dark Side healing were truly miraculous, Trias thought) and was going through speech therapy, learning how to talk again considering that his jaw was injured. The Emperor hadn’t done this, Trias knew. (It was unsettling how easy it was to refer to his father as such. He had little to no fatherly instincts left in him) Apparently one of his father’s strange acolytes had done this. A close shave too, considering that Snoke could have very easily completely lost his jaw.   
  
Even though Snoke likely wasn’t up for pity, Trias’ heart bled for him nonetheless. Palpatine called Snoke his “favorite son”, but that didn’t say much. On Exegol, everyone got some degree of mistreatment regardless if they were the “favorite”.  
  
“Again, Snoke,” the haughty voice of the woman hired as Snoke’s speech assistant said, even as Trias drew closer to Snoke’s room.   
  
Snoke snarled. “I know the Sith Code like humans know the backs of their hands,” he said. “Must I repeat it, again and again?”  
  
A huff. “Your father has no room for a Milaran who can barely pronounce.”  
  
Trias thought that Snoke actually sounded better, though. He sounded, at least, intelligible.   
  
“Give me a good reason,” Snoke snarled, “Why I shouldn’t break your wretched neck instead of endure this pointless lesson.”  
  
“Your father would be displeased. We know what happens when the Emperor is displeased...”  
  
“Very well.” Snoke was no less resentful, though. Trias could feel the hatred bubbling inside him, like lava in a volcano. He dreaded when Snoke would erupt. He couldn’t aim that anger against the Emperor — for some reason, despite the Sith actively encouraging competition, Snoke was averse to killing Palpatine himself. Maybe he felt what Trias did — a desire for the Emperor’s approval, even though you couldn’t get it that easily.   
  
***  
  
It was after Snoke was done with his lesson for the day that Trias spoke to him. “Are you all right?” he said.   
  
"I can speak,” Snoke said acidly. “I suppose I should count that as a blessing.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Trias said.   
  
“I desire no one’s pity, let alone yours,” Snoke rumbled. “Incidentally, pity is a weakness among the Sith, as is compassion, and it’s all but useless applying it to me. You...a faulty heir whose compassion will be his downfall.”  
  
Trias swallowed. He knew compassion wasn’t rewarded in Exegol, but somehow — he still felt it. It was almost a compulsion. Even his father, at some points...Trias almost wondered if someone had done something similar to him. It was best not to ask, however. If he did, his father would scorn it one way or another.   
  
“Someone has to,” he said. “Including you, Snoke.”  
  
Snoke growled deep in his throat. “You don’t understand, do you? Everything Father does is to make us stronger. It is the Sith way. Do you think the Sith of old became as powerful as they did through sentiment and coddling?”  
  
Snoke was right. It hurt, but he was right. So why did it hurt so that the Emperor put him through this training? That his mother didn’t help him? Maybe wondering why his mother didn’t help him was just self-pitying weakness. After all, maybe parents on the Dark Side simply trained their children this way. Dangling them over pits on Exegol. Frying them with Lightning. Aiming just the right words to put down, to cut.   
  
Maybe Trias needed to “toughen up”, sooner or later.   
  
“I know,” Trias said. “I just don’t like seeing you hurting. Or anyone, actually.”  
  
“Pain is the way of the Dark Side. Perhaps I’ll teach my own apprentice the same, and they’ll teach their apprentice the same.”  
  
“You’re dooming yourself and others to a cycle of hellish training.”  
  
“Am I?” Snoke said. “Or is it you that are doomed?”  
  
Even later, in his quarters, Trias couldn’t say he could answer that.


End file.
